Sins of the Lion
by Di The Creator
Summary: Before the USS Enterprise can commence its 5-year mission, it has one last task assigned to it: Deliver the cryo-tubes of Khan and his crew to a research facility. What Kirk and his crew don't expect is the flame from Khan's past named Marla McGivers. Sequel to fic "The Wrathful and the Sullen" and the film Star Trek Into Darkness.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This story is a sequel to my previous Khan/Marla fic "The Wrathful and the Sullen." It also picks up (literally) right where Star Trek Into Darkness ends. So, this story is going to be as much about the Enterprise crew as it is Khan and Marla. Hope you enjoy! And as always, comments/critiques welcome!

* * *

CHAPTER 1:

"Spock!"

"Captain."

"Where should we go?" Kirk asked distantly, his eyes on the endless field of stars that filled the viewscreen.

"As a mission of this duration has never been attempted," Spock began with the closest thing to excitement he had ever displayed, "I defer to your good judgment, captain."

Spock had just given him permission to run wild in space and it made Kirk smile. Inside he was rearing to go, burning to deflower those uncharted territories of space. Spock slipped away to take up his science station. All the while, Dr. McCoy wandered through the bridge towards where the first officer sat.

Kirk nestled into the captain's chair. "Mr. Sulu, take us out."

"Aye, captain."

When the commands were punched in at the helm and the _Enterprise _broke into warp, Kirk relished in the sensation of the subtle vibration through his fingertips as he clutched the chair.

"Heading, sir?" Sulu peered over the gold shoulder of his uniform.

Kirk still grinned. He was absolutely loving the feeling of not needing to be anywhere with the best ship in the fleet. "Lay in a course for…" He squinted his eyes thoughtfully, then pointed at the left side of the viewscreen, "… thataway."

Sulu mirrored the grin and nodded. "Yes, sir!"

"Mr. Chekov," the captain looked to the head of curls that sat beside Sulu. "Pull up a map of the quadrant we'll be entering at this heading and give me an ETA of when we'll be approaching the edge of chartered space."

"Aye, keptin!" peeped the young Russian.

The viewscreen filled with the glittering image of star systems within Federation space, the quadrants neatly labeled and each sector clearly separated. On the outer edges, however, was the darkness—the unknown and the untouched vastness of space that was waiting to be explored. A few minutes at warp and Kirk could already smell the freedom.

"Captain," Uhura's voice interrupted the excited bustle of the bridge. "Incoming transmission from Star Command."

"On speaker."

"_Captain Kirk!_" He recognized the friendly voice.

"Commodore Ralston," Kirk greeted the voice cheerfully.

"_I gather your five-year mission is well underway?_"

"Yes, sir, it is."

"_Good, good! Uh…_" The chipper tone died quickly._ "Captain, it pains me to have to tell you this… The _Enterprise_ is ordered to take something of a little detour… You've been assigned a small task that needs to be completed satisfactorily before you reach deep space._"

"Small task? Like an errand?" Kirk didn't mean to sound as insulted as he felt. This was a flagship, not a transport-for-hire.

"_I suppose I could have worded that better,_" the commodore murmured. "_It's a simple but highly important job. The _Enterprise_ is the best equipped for major cargo as well as its top-notch security. There are other factors involved in your ship being chosen for this as well. Such as your route taking you in the general direction that this cargo needs to go, and…_"

"With all due respect, commodore, could you please get to the point?" Kirk didn't like the uneasy feeling that was beginning to flop around in his stomach.

"_Star Command wants the _Enterprise _to be the transport vessel for the seventy-three augments currently in custody at Starbase 2._"

The bridge became deadly quiet. It even seemed as though the computers stopped beeping for a moment as Kirk could feel the eyes of his bridge crew turning his way.

"Can I ask why they're being moved in the first place?" And not buried in the center of some planet where they belong? he silently added. But Starfleet, in cooperation with the Federation, has made a point of keeping the identity of the augments anonymous.

"_It's no secret. As you may recall, John Harrison and his crew were sentenced to suspended animation indefinitely. The science division has deemed their genetic makeup far too invaluable to be destroyed and it's for that reason that they want them taken from the starbase they've been kept at and moved to Regula I where they can be properly studied. Regula I is our leading research facility in biology and genetics._"

Kirk had never been keen on the council's decision to keep the augments on ice, and the idea of moving them around had his grip tightening on the arms of the captain's chair. "So why the _Enterprise_?" he asked with a tone flat enough to make any Vulcan proud.

"_As I said, your vessel is the most qualified and equipped for such cargo. And I thought with your personal connection to the prisoners, it could offer you some closure on the matter._"

"To be honest, sir—and I think I speak for the rest of my crew—the farther _Harrison_ is from this ship the better."

There was a pause. "_Are you saying you refuse?_"

"Do I have a choice?"

"_You do, incidentally. But I strongly suggest you accept. It will take you three days off course, tops, then you can recommence your mission uninterrupted. You should understand one of the reasons we chose you was, admittedly, out of convenience. The _Enterprise_ is not only the closest ship, but the best one for the job. Will you do it?_"

His first instinct was to reply with an emphatic _Hell no!_ But he knew this wasn't his decision to make alone.

"Just… give me a moment, commodore…"

When he turned, he saw Spock standing close to his right, his face as stoic as ever and his hands clasped at his back. Kirk waited until his first officer peered downward to him.

"What d'you think?" Kirk asked quietly. "Are you as uncomfortable as I am about this?"

"I sure as hell am!" McCoy's rough voice burst out from his left.

"The decision," Spock glanced to the doctor before favoring the captain again, "one way or the other has no effect on my level of comfort, physically or emotionally, and is therefore irrelevant…"

Kirk glared at him. "You could be more helpful."

"However," the Vulcan continued with a subtle shift in his tone, "logically, if the _Enterprise_ is most suited for the task, then it would follow that we should accept."

"There's no big emergency here," McCoy interrupted. "Those people are snug in their ice cubes and don't need us to haul 'em around. Any ship can do the job."

"Such cargo," Spock said crisply, "requires a careful and well-armed escort. The superior coding of their DNA makes them a virtual treasure-trove of knowledge and power. Should the wrong people get a hold of them, the dangers could be exponentially worse than the single danger we faced in Khan himself."

"So let them escort the bastard and his crew in a fleet!" McCoy threw an arm out for emphasis. "We're explorers, we have a new mission that's supposed to be taking us 'thataway'—wherever the hell that is..."

Kirk looked quizzically up at the disgruntled doctor. "Suddenly you're in favor of deep space?"

"With babysitting Khan as an alternative?" McCoy scoffed and folded his arms. "You bet your ass I am. Jim, all the reasons to do this are outnumbered by the reasons not to."

"Your arguments, doctor, are built on your unrestrained emotions," Spock observed. "And though I am by no means eager to have the augments on board this ship again, may I make a presupposition, captain? If I am correct in my judgment of your character, you will always consider any other captain inadequate to accomplish the very task that you had refused in the first place."

Kirk wanted to punch him right in the face—but he was right. The only thing that Kirk hated more than the idea of escorting a sleeping Khan was the idea of someone else—someone less reliable—doing it. He took a deep breath and collected himself before giving his final answer.

"Alright, commodore… I accept."

Bones let out a defeated huff and stomped away. It was then that Kirk caught a glimpse of Carol Marcus on the far end of the bridge, her eyes fixed on him and her face three shades paler.

"Mr. Sulu… Set course for Starbase 2."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2:

It almost looked like a funeral procession the way that the cryo-tubes were hauled into the cargo bay of the _Enterprise_, which was now docked at Starbase 2_._ The personnel floated them along, lining them up in neat rows in the middle of the vast floor. Captain Kirk stood on the upper level, one hand gripping the rail in front of him as the other crushed the life out of a PADD as he watched the cargo get organized and signed for, a few extraneous crates of supplies for Regula I being inventoried.

"Captain." He knew the monotone greeting without having to look to Spock, who stood beside him, also gazing out over the cargo below. "As adamant as you were in your desire to stay as far away from the augments as possible, it seemed unlikely that you would loiter here."

"If they're going to be sleeping on my ship, it wouldn't do me much good to avoid them, now would it?" Kirk mumbled.

"They are in cryo-stasis and will be monitored by Dr. McCoy for any changes. At this point, they are no different than any other cargo and should be viewed as such."

Kirk looked askance to the Vulcan. There was a particular level of extra-monotony in that statement. "You telling _me_ that or yourself?"

He heard about how Spock chased Khan down in a rare moment of rage. The Vulcan was anything but indifferent about this.

"I am simply articulating the most logical perspective to an otherwise uncomfortable situation for you, captain." Spock didn't look at him.

There was a brief silence between them as they watched the crew weave in and out of the rows of cryo-tubes. There was a nagging question at the back of Kirk's mind that he couldn't keep to himself any longer.

"Spock…" he whispered and inched discreetly nearer, his voice tinged with worry. "What do you think the chances are of one of these people waking up? I mean, after all they've been through with the _Vengeance_ last year, none of them were revived by accident, right?"

Spock's cool gaze finally shifted to him, a single brow quirking. "I believe you just answered the question for yourself. They have been encased in those tubes for approximately three centuries, in which time they were likely to suffer some abuse. It would take an immense blow for any of them to be opened by chance, and even if they were, they would die soon after without the proper sequencing and medical attention. The only individual who may know the proper sequencing for any such revival is currently in one of those tubes as well. Therefore, the likelihood of any incident that would result in one or more of the augments reviving and moving freely around the ship is less than point zero-three-two percent."

The line of logic was sound (how could it be anything else?) and Kirk nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right… I think you're making up those numbers, but you make a good point. I'll just be glad when we get this done and over with."

Though Spock didn't say anything, Kirk was sure he caught a look of agreement in his eye. God forbid he admitted to being 'glad' of anything, though.

"I will see you on the bridge for launch, captain." With that, he strolled away, leaving the captain alone again.

Kirk's eyes drifted back to the sea of cryo-tubes below in the cargo bay. They were all identical and looked so harmless. It was difficult to imagine how much grief and suffering they had caused, either intentionally or inadvertently. These things and the people inside them were poisonous to peace.

Of all the personnel who wove through the cargo, one in particular caught his eye. The red uniform wasn't exactly unique from the others, but the fact that she was stationary in one spot for so long made her stand out. She was beside one of the cryo-tubes holding a PADD, but she didn't look like she had used it for a good five minutes. Kirk watched curiously, waiting for her to move. When she didn't, when she simply stared at the cryo-tube, he began to descend the stairs onto the busy cargo bay's floor.

"Everything all right, ensign?" He approached with a light stride.

She jolted at the sound of his voice. "Yes, captain! I was just doing checks on each tube to ensure they're all in functioning order before launch."

He stood on the other side of the cryo-tube and looked at her for a moment. Her hair was almost as red as her uniform, which was striking, and all the more reason he found it odd that she was so unfamiliar. "I don't think I've seen you around the ship."

"I could be wrong, sir, but that might be because I just transferred onto the _Enterprise_ this morning," she said coyly.

"A sound theory," Kirk chuckled and took up his own PADD. "What's your name?"

"Rhue, Madlyn."

Through the PADD he accessed the crew files and found her instantly. "Ensign Madlyn Rhue. Control Systems Specialist and historian. I get why you're so interested in the, uh… _cargo_ then." He tapped the cryo-tube.

What he had meant as a light observation instead made her face droop ever so slightly. "To a point, captain…"

"I won't keep you from your work anymore, ensign. Carry on."

She nodded and scurried to the next cryo-tube. Kirk couldn't help watching her. It wasn't just because she was pretty—something he would never overlook in any woman—but there was something strange about her. As she moved from one tube to the next, he finally looked more closely to the one that he stood beside, the one that she had lingered at for so long. The ghostly face within the frosted window was too singular to mistake, even if it was deceptively serene. It was Khan.

* * *

The _Enterprise_ was ready to launch within the hour, and the ship was electrified with the busy crew, as last minute checks and tests were done. Kirk swaggered through the whitened corridors, the crew pausing at attention and making way for their captain. He would never deny that he loved the power of parting a crowd thanks to the stripes on his sleeve.

As he approached the turbo lift, a small blue uniform appeared beside him, a familiar sweep of blonde bouncing along with it. Carol huffed, apparently out of breath from trying to catch up to him.

"Dr. Marcus," Kirk smiled to her and stopped in front of the lift doors.

"Hello, captain," she smiled back, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. "I need you to sign this."

He took the PADD that she held out to him. "What—You're transferring off the ship?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He didn't bother to hide the confused disappointment.

"I know that you make decisions to the best of your ability, that you can't be expected to alter those decisions because of one person. But I can leave without any consequences… so I will."

It was the strained professionalism of her voice that tipped him off. "This is because of Khan."

Her bottom lip tucked in and she reluctantly nodded.

"He's in cryogenic sleep, Carol. He's harmless."

"It's not that…" she shook her head with furrowed brows. "I just… can't be around them. Around _him_. I still have nightmares about it." She smiled, as if to make light of it. But contradicting the smile was a tremble in her voice. "I can't stop seeing what he did on that bridge. What he did to you, to me… to my father." Her voice failed her this time, and she cleared her throat to stave it off and maintain a strong front. "He nearly killed us all. I remember hearing the screams of this crew when the ship was falling from the sky. He caused all that, and just knowing he's here… I can't be on the same ship with such a monster."

Kirk stared at her, his heart wrenching to see how close to breaking she was. He understood everything she was saying, she would have been crazy or unbelievably resilient to not be affected by those incidents a year ago. But in spite of his empathy, it was his selfish side that had a voice.

"I really wish you'd stay, Carol." When she opened her mouth to continue her plea, he gently took her wrist. "I promise it'll be fine. There's security posted in the cargo bay and Dr. McCoy is monitoring them… It'll only be a three day journey and they'll be off our hands forever. The nightmares won't go away by running."

"Jim, he terrifies me." She tried to laugh again, but it ended up a sob.

"All the more reason to see this through, right?" he offered with as much encouragement as he could muster. "They say the only way to overcome a fear is to face it."

She looked at him with playful reproach. "This isn't some phobia of spiders."

"I'll sign the transfer if you want me to," he said with defeat, "but it'll be against my preference."

"Personally or professionally?" the question came out carefully, almost nervously.

"If I say both, will you accuse me of harassment?"

"Are you charged with harassment often, captain?"

"Never while I've been a captain," he smirked.

She chuckled lightly, but fell quiet as she weighed her decision. Her eyes averted and he could see the inner conflict in her blue eyes. Maybe it wasn't fair of him to beg her to stay. But they were going on a five-year mission as soon as the augments were delivered and he was looking forward to having her on the crew for it. Her narrow shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

"I'll stay…" the words weren't confident, but they were the ones he wanted to hear. She retrieved her PADD from him unsigned. "You're right. I need to prove to myself that there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Exactly," his smile broadened.

"I'll be seeing you around then, captain." Hugging the PADD, she walked away.

His eyes lingered on her back longer than they probably should have before he finally stepped onto the turbo lift and directed it to the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3:

They were almost one day into the voyage and keeping a steady course at warp 4. It didn't matter what speed they were travelling at, though. It could never be fast enough for Kirk. The bridge was relatively quiet, save for the usual busywork of the crew and the repetitious beeping that drifted through the air. It crossed Kirk's mind as he handed a signed PADD to a yeoman that this mission was going exceptionally smooth. And that was when there came an unfriendly bleep from the helm.

"Sir," said Sulu, "there's something coming right at us on a collision course!"

"Is it a ship or debris?"

There seemed to be no shortage of debris in Federation Space these days.

"I can't seem to get a lock on it…" Sulu said distractedly, his focus jumping between the viewscreen and the helm controls.

"Can you at least get a visual?"

"Vorking on it, keptin!" Chekov chimed in, his hands flitting over the buttons. "Ze magnitude of ze object is immense, but sensors can't seem to locate it."

Kirk watched the viewscreen intently. All he could see was the blackness of space and specks of stars. "What's your definition of 'immense', Mr. Chekov?"

"Ah…" the young Russian made a few befuddled noises and shrugged. "_Big_, sir. The measurements seem to fluctuate between 160 and 2000 meters…"

"Could it be a cloaked ship throwing off our sensors?" Kirk suggested.

"Unlikely," Spock's cool voice joined in from the science station. "Sensors are not reading cloaking or warp signatures. They are not reading any energy signatures in proximity of the _Enterprise _at all."

"Then what the hell _are _we reading?" He asked anyone who had an answer.

"Only that something is coming at us and fast," Sulu said rapidly. "Collision in thirty seconds!"

"Shields up!" Kirk's fist hit the intercom, his voice echoing out ship-wide. "Attention crew, brace for impact!"

"Collision in 10… 9…"

Kirk held his chair at the arm rests. "Can anyone get any kind of lock on it?!"

"6…5…"

"Negative, captain," Spock said with certainty, but that didn't seem to stop him from trying.

"3…2…1!"

Everyone braced themselves... and nothing happened.

There was a long, tense silence and gradually the crew began to exchange quizzical glances. The viewscreen still showed empty space, the sensors still reading nothing. But the helm continued to beep frantically at an impending impact. Kirk slowly relaxed, but his brow was still furrowed.

"Spock…" he said slowly, swiveling his chair around to face the Vulcan. "Is it possible the computers are malfunctioning?"

Spock half swiveled in his own chair, a pointed brow popping up as he looked to the captain. "That… _is_ possible, captain. I will investigate."

Kirk hit the intercom. "This is the captain. I want all decks to report any unusual readings or possible malfunctions. Nothing has collided with the ship, but the ship itself doesn't seem to know that. We will remain on yellow alert until this is resolved. Kirk out."

"Captain…?" Sulu's voice rose carefully. "Now I'm getting warnings of two things coming at us from opposite sides."

"Any chance you can lock on one or both?" Kirk leaned forward in his seat, squinting at the viewscreen.

There were multiple _no's_ from around the bridge as all stations failed to get any sensor readings.

"_Engineering to the bridge!_" Scotty's voice came through the speaker.

Kirk hit the button to reply. "What is it, Scotty?"

"_Wish I knew, Cap'n!_" the Scotsman scoffed. "_We're gettin' readings down here that our engines are overloading and that the dilithium crystals have been completely removed. But I'm lookin' at the bloody things wit' m'own eyes as we speak—they're snug in place and not a scratch on 'em._"

"And the engines?"

"_Still purring along with no radiation, even though the computer is tryin' to seal the whole bloody deck. Tricorders cannae read any leaking emissions. The computer is givin' every kind o' warning that's possible on a ship, except for a warp core brea—"_ A loud buzzing shrieked through the speaker. "_Scratch that. According to the system, we are puffs of matter being scattered in all directions. Cap'n, there's nothin' wrong with the engines! I'd stake my life on it!_"

"Not necessary, Mr. Scott," said Kirk. "We're getting weird readings up here too. There's gotta be something wrong with the computers. Keep looking into it nonetheless."

"_Aye, Cap'n._"

"Impact in five seconds…" Sulu announced. "3...2…1!"

Nothing.

"You gotta be kidding me…" Kirk said under his breath. The ship was just rechristened and was supposed to be better than new.

"Hull breach detected!" shouted a member on the other side of the bridge.

"Where?"

"The… bridge…?"

Kirk didn't even need to take a look around to know that was bunk. "Okay, that's it. Uhura, send a message to Star Command and let them know our computers are seriously faulty. If they want proof that a thorough check was done before launch, transmit the report to them."

So much for smooth sailing.

* * *

The ship was a confused—borderline panicked—mess. Crew members were running all through the decks chasing the phantom problems that the computer constantly threw at them. Protocol demanded that every warning be investigated notwithstanding, which made everyone feel like a fool. Each announcement that came over the ship-wide intercom from Captain Kirk was increasingly more and more irate.

Marla had no idea sabotage was this easy, and she felt a surprising urge to smile. But the last thing she wanted to do was be the only crew member smiling in the madness that filled the _Enterprise._

Step one was underway, and it was time for step two.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4:

"No, God damn it!" Dr. McCoy barked at one of the nurses. "Does it _look_ like Sick Bay is on fire?! We don't need to evacuate. In case you haven't noticed, the computers have lost their damn minds! I've always said it was a bad idea to rely on machines so long as we still have two eyeballs to see with…"

He gave the computer a hard smack. Personally, he was kind of glad to see the crew break away from their dependence on the computer system, even if it was under such wild circumstances. Every ten minutes, the ship was told to brace for impact. And every time, McCoy was probably the only one to do it. In the off chance that something _did_ hit the ship, he had no desire to bounce around the room like a bean in a tin can.

His nurses became more and more scattered throughout the ship as calls came in of injuries caused by carelessness and panic. There were only a couple of them left in the med bay where the doctor continued to battle his delusional computer.

"Doctor!" A frantic voice drew his attention to a young red-headed ensign rushing towards him breathlessly. "Doctor, I need your help!"

"What happened?" He had to grip her shoulder, firmly but gently, to keep her from toppling over. "Just breathe, ensign…"

"The cargo bay…" she heaved. "… An officer, he's seriously hurt… I think something fell, I don't know… there's blood, he's hardly moving, but he's alive… You have to come, doctor!"

"Take me to him."

There was no hesitation from McCoy. In all the craziness going on in the past hour or so, he wouldn't have put it past someone to get themselves good and mortally wounded. Snatching up his med kit, he was running as fast as his legs could carry him to follow the redhead through the winding corridors of the ship. The turbo lifts were obviously out of order by the way they seemed to spit out a red shirt here and a blue shirt there.

When they reached the cargo bay, it was lit up by the yellow alert, casting cross-hatched shadows of the crates and cryo-tubes in all directions. It was a little dizzying, but McCoy swallowed down his complaints as he searched for the wounded officer. He was just about to inquire where the patient was when he saw a young security man sprawled on the floor. The doctor dropped beside him, immediately taking tricorder readings with one hand while he looked him over.

"I thought you said he was bleeding? I don't see anything…" he trailed off as he looked over the readings. "What the hell… This man's been drugged! Ensign—"

When he turned in his stoop, he found himself staring into the blasting end of a phaser. The blue tip told him it was on stun, but that didn't keep his heart from stopping cold. On the other end of the weapon was the redhead.

"Stand up, please." The words might have been polite, but her tone wasn't.

As much as McCoy wanted to help the fallen man, he wasn't injured, he was only sleeping and would be just fine without immediate medical help. So, carefully, the doctor rose to his feet, showing her his hands. With a gesture of the phaser, she directed him towards the sea of cryo-tubes.

"Keep walking…" she commanded curtly.

He did as he was told and marched.

"Stop there."

It was with some reluctance that McCoy looked to the cryo-tube beside where he was told to stop. Sure enough, sleeping more peacefully than he had a right to, was Khan himself. He didn't like where this was going. McCoy wished that for once he had listened to that small voice in his head that told him to stay on the starbase and off the _Enterprise._ The redhead took a stance on the opposite side of the cryo-tube, the phaser still directly aimed.

"Revive him."

"Are you outta your mind?!"

"Revive him, doctor." She repeated sternly. "I'm not asking."

"I can't," he said truthfully. "Without special equipment or the proper sequencing, it'll kill him if I try. Don't get me wrong, I think it would be doing the universe a favor if I did, but I don't want to be anyone's executioner."

Keeping the phaser on him, she bent to the side to pull something from the top of her knee-high boot. It was a disc, which she held for him to see. "It's a good thing I have the sequencing then."

"And how do you know it'll work?" He was just stalling now.

"Because I downloaded it directly from the twentieth century ship that they were found on two years ago."

Damn. That would do it.

"Look," he said gently, "whoever's putting you up to this doesn't know what they're asking. You wake this guy up and all hell breaks loose—"

"I'm acting alone," she snapped. "Which means it's up to me whether or not I shoot you for not cooperating. Revive him."

"You know who this guy is, don't you?" he pointed to the ghostly face in the window of the cryo-tube. "He's responsible for the deaths of thousands of people—and that's just in _this_ century! This isn't just some man taking a nap, ensign, this is a sleeping dragon and he'll kill us all just because you gave him the chance!"

As he spoke, her eyes had drifted away from him to fix on Khan's pale and frosted face. Her expression was hard, but McCoy was sure he could see the flicker of doubt in her eye; the flicker that told him his words were striking some chord of humanity within her.

"Whatever your reasons," he continued more gently, "you don't want to do this."

"No… I don't…" she replied quietly. "But I have to. Please, doctor. Wake him up."

She was resolved beyond all reason. There was nothing McCoy was likely to say at this point that would alter her choice and he knew it. If he refused, she would just threaten another medical officer to do the job, and there were plenty—albeit probably less qualified—to do it.

"Fine," he said under his breath and held out his hand. "I'll need the sequencing then."

* * *

Due to the ridiculous flood of alerts from the ship's system, Kirk had no choice but to order the _Enterprise_ to drop out of warp. The bridge went through waves of activity. There were moments where it became so quiet that things seemed normal again, other times it was _too_ quiet and a pin could be heard dropping—an uncomfortable scenario on any space vessel.

"One hundred twenty three… and a half… objects on a collision course, sir," Sulu sighed heavily. "This time in a V-formation…"

"We've already gone through the rest of the alphabet," Kirk rubbed his brow, a headache growing worse and worse. He was standing behind his chair, leaning heavily on the back of it. With any luck it would stop at Z and wouldn't start the Klingon alphabet or something. "Spock. Anything?"

"Whatever is affecting our computer systems is internal, captain," the Vulcan replied calmly. "The tampering has infiltrated so deep into the systems that it would be impossible to have been done from just any computer on the ship. If it is to be fixed, it must be done through one of the main terminals."

Kirk was still for a moment, his brow furrowing as his stature straightened from his lean on the chair to look more fully towards his first officer. "You mean someone on the ship is responsible for this?"

"At least one individual," Spock specified. "There could be more."

Malfunctioning machines was one thing, sabotage another. "You're sure?"

"If by 'sure' you mean 'certain'—yes, I _am_ certain the computer has been deliberately interfered with. No, I am not certain how many or whom."

"First order of business is to fix the computers before we fly into a moon." Kirk's voice was strained, the anger bubbling up towards whoever the traitor was. "Get maintenance on it, Mr. Spock…"

"Yes, captain."

Sauntering back to the chair, he patched through to the med bay. "Dr. McCoy, how're things going down there?"

No response.

"Doctor!" No response. He groaned with annoyance. "Lieutenant Uhura, are the coms working?"

"They are, captain, there's just no response…" her own voice was flustered with the overwhelming error lights that filled her station.

"Bones, respond!"

"_Captain!_" a woman's voice responded. "_This is Nurse Yulins. Doctor McCoy isn't in Sick Bay at the moment._"

"Thank you, nurse…" he switched from a direct channel to ship-wide intercom. "Dr. McCoy, report to the bridge immediately."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5:

"_Dr. McCoy, report to the bridge immediately._"

Captain Kirk's voice echoed curtly through the ship, his patience clearly worn to its thinnest. But he had to go ignored, and though McCoy focused attentively on his work, she could see the deepening crease of his ever-constant frown at the call of his captain.

Marla had given Dr. McCoy the sequencing and now there was little else for her to do but watch. She had to remind herself how to breathe with each code that he manually punched into the circular control pad atop the cryo-tube. A voice within her was on the verge of screaming _No! Stop! This is a horrible mistake! Let him sleep!_ But something else within her stifled that voice of reason.

These codes were originally intended to be automatically activated by the system of the _SS Botany Bay_, but now that the cryo-tubes were disconnected, things had to be done by hand, which raised the risk factor substantially for the sleeper inside. One code out of sequence and Khan's already slowed bodily functions could stop altogether.

The doctor concentrated deeply on the readings of the tricorder. Though he was doing this against his will, she admired his diligence as a physician. "Heart rate beginning to accelerate above the cryo-stasis norm of four beats per minute…" he seemed to be talking to himself until his intent blue eyes locked on her, his brows knitted with warning. "There's only one code left to pop this thing open and I have to administer the anti-freeze and stimulant to wake him up. It's not too late to stop here and let him sleep none the wiser."

"I know how dangerous he is, doctor…" she replied sharply. "Which is exactly why I'm doing this."

"That probably somehow makes sense to you, but from here it sounds like you're outta your gourd."

"Keep going." This pause was dangerous to her resolution.

Without so much as an agreement or further protest, he continued. His fingers expertly tapped at the buttons, putting in the final code. There was the slightest reluctance before he hit the last button. The cryo-tube gave a hiss, the clamps inside clanging against the metal shell as they pulled back. Marla moved forward to help the doctor pull the top of the tube free, removing the barrier that separated them from the sleeping figure. Frosty mist poured out of it like thin smoke, making the entire scene even more surreal than it already was.

With a wave of McCoy's hand, a majority of the vapor was fanned away and he leaned into the cold air that now emanated from it. He already had his hypo ready and pressed it to Khan's white throat. The anti-freeze was injected, sounding like nothing more than a wisp of air through the hypo-spray.

Her eyes were fixed on Khan's face. Color was gradually returning to those sharp cheekbones, the frost already melting into his black hair at the scalp. Then, there came the first sign of life when his eyes twitched beneath the closed lids. All the while, McCoy was reloading the hypo with the promised stimulant. The tip was pressed to the same part of Khan's throat, but McCoy hesitated again.

"God help me…" Holding his breath, he injected it.

Almost instantaneously, Khan's eyes flashed open, his pupils so blown that his eyes showed glowing rings of green around sheer blackness. His mouth opened to pull in air in one long hoarse breath, his chest expanding to its fullest. His breathing was irregular, the eyes she had always remembered as keen and penetrating now bleary and confused. But with each blink, he seemed to become more cognizant. He first focused on McCoy, the air still sucked in through his mouth with obvious pain.

"How long…?"

"Only a year," McCoy grumbled.

Khan had scarcely looked at her yet. If she left now, he would never even know she was there, and one foot moved back with the temptation to do just that. And yet, there was a creeping sensation of joy to see him alive and so near her. She wanted to speak his name, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out.

His body was visibly trembling, his muscles clearly contracted as his body fought to normalize with the aid of the stimulant that flowed through his veins. She had never seen him look so weak, but his spirit seemed as indomitable as ever as he forced his body upright, gripping the sides of the tube with stiffened hands.

"Where am I..?" he rasped.

"You're on board the _USS Enterprise. _With the rest of your crew," she answered, suddenly finding her courage along with her voice.

She had forgotten about the phaser in her right hand as she laid her left over his own. His skin felt like ice, but to touch him again, to feel the sharp edges of his knuckles finally solidified the reality. She ventured to lean in, to try to catch his gaze and help him to see her— to remember her. Her heart pounded with fear and hope.

"Khan…"

He looked to her through the damp strands of black that had fallen over his brow, his eyes focused in and out until they locked onto hers. Something silver glimmered through the green, and it reminded her of a hungry predator. She had seen that look before and it made her retract her hand and step back.

"_You…_" he hissed.

"It's Marla," her voice trembled as she spoke tenderly, but her legs were carrying her backward. The last time he looked at her, it was with pure adoration. The look on his face now was pure blood thirst.

Slowly, like some freshly awakened vampire, he began to crawl out of the cryo-tube. His eyes were locked on her, his pale lips gradually pulling back into a sneer. He leaned heavily on the tube, his legs not fully prepared to support him. His unbalanced state made it easier for Dr. McCoy to reach out and clasp a hand on Khan's bicep.

"You shouldn't be moving!" the medical officer in him seemed to overcome everything.

But Khan, unsurprisingly, wouldn't be deterred by such a feeble thing as doctor's orders. He easily wrenched himself free and followed his fastened line of sight towards Marla. She continued to inch backward.

"S-stay away!" Her attempt at warning quickly became a plea. "Khan, please don't—"

The sudden onslaught of terror made her body freeze just long enough for him to overtake her. The next thing she knew, she was looking up at the ceiling of the cargo bay, pain shooting through her as her spine was bent backward over another cryo-tube. It was only when she couldn't breathe that she was conscious of the icy hand that had latched around her throat. Her legs cut through the air as she kicked madly, her fingers clawing in vain at Khan's hand. She had no time to be heartbroken or confused. All she knew was that she was about to die.

Her vision was quickly dimming, her struggling pulse pounding in her ears. The hand suddenly let go and she dropped onto the floor in a heap. Oxygen returned to her in a fit of coughing, through which she was barely aware of a brief struggle above her. McCoy had bravely grabbed the awakened augment by the shoulders to save her, and only succeeded as far as he had because of Khan's current weakness. Unfortunately, the poor doctor wasn't quick enough on his feet to dodge the backhanded swipe of Khan's hand. McCoy was knocked to the floor cold.

During this, Marla had gained enough time to grab the phaser that she had dropped. The end snapped from blue to red as she switched it to kill and pointed it at the looming figure of Khan. She was still on the ground, her breath now wheezing from the bruise to her trachea.

"Stay… away…" she demanded.

Rather than any human reply, he growled and leaned back on the empty cryo-tube that he had emerged from. His shoulders protruded sharply as his head hung low, his ribs rising and falling rapidly to take in air. The way he still looked at her like an insect to be stomped out created a new pain within her, one that struck her at the core.

"What happened to you?" The question came out weakly. He looked exactly the same, and yet it was hard to recognize him. "Why do you want to hurt me…?"

"Hurt you?" he said huskily, his eyes narrowing with clear contempt. "That would be too small a recompense for your betrayal!" He heaved in a breath, his vocal chords still clenched from the cold and his lean frame swayed slightly.

"Betrayal?" The word almost had no meaning to her when it was uttered from his lips. She was confused. He had given her the choice to escape with him or let him go alone, and to her it wasn't a choice at all. At the time she was once convinced that she belonged at his side. "Because I didn't show up in the hangar to leave with you?"

"Because you denounced me to Marcus!" his voice bellowed through the vast space of the cargo bay. "Because you helped them to take _everything_ from me!"

She stared with disbelief. "You think I was working for Marcus? Is that what they told you?"

"Could you really convince me otherwise?" he answered bitterly, his face lowering tiredly into his hand.

"So you were content to believe I was—what? A spy?" Her voice cracked as she realized how little she meant to him. "You didn't even give me the benefit of the doubt to find out the truth? After all the time we spent together? After I—No…" she finally forced herself off the floor and onto her feet, the phaser lowered and held at her side. "No, I won't explain myself to you." She spoke proudly, but the ache in her heart burned her eyes. "You can assume what you like about me if it's that easy for you to believe. But I've _seen _what you've done_,_ Khan! I saw what you did to the Kelvin Archives, to Starfleet Headquarters, and San Francisco. I know how you nearly obliterated this ship and everyone on it without mercy!"

He was still. His face was hidden in his hand and though he made no reply, save for slow, deep breaths, she knew he heard every word.

"I gave up everything for you," she felt foolish for saying it aloud. "But after what you've done, you make me wish that I _had_ denounced you," the words came out sharply, tinged with every ounce of agony that was tearing her apart on the inside.

He finally exhaled and the breath was shaken. Lowering his hand from face at last, he looked at her. His expression was hard, the muscles in his jaw jumping and his eyes dimmed with tears.

"Then why did you wake me?" his voice was startlingly weak.

She didn't know how to answer and would not be afforded the chance when a voice echoed out over the intercom.

"_Doctor McCoy, report to the bridge! Bones, where the hell are you?_"

The sound of the captain's voice brought a spark of life into Khan's bleary eyes, his gaze lifting almost expectantly to the tall ceiling. His voice was so low that it seemed to make no sound, but she clearly saw him mouth the name _Kirk._ Khan had a history with Kirk, she knew, and the predatory look in Khan's eyes reminded her of their situation.

"We can't stay here," she glanced to the fallen doctor worriedly. It was a relief to see that he was breathing, since she had no intention of him getting hurt in the first place. "I'm going to help you," she looked to Khan. "Like I've always helped you."

The slightest of bewildered frowns appeared on his face, but he didn't question it. Collecting himself, he rose to his full stature. His shoulders squared and his head was held high, but his stance still wasn't quite convincingly strong.

"Why is the ship on alert?" he asked.

"The ship's systems are malfunctioning… Because I hacked into them."

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, one that might have been a hint of a smile. He extended his hand towards her, palm up.

"Give me the phaser," he commanded.

She felt the strings beginning to attach to her limbs little by little, stealing away her ability to disobey him. But she resisted long enough to speak.

"Only if you promise me one thing." It was laughable that she even pretended to have any sway here.

His head canted a bit with curiosity.

"Promise me," she said clearly, "that you won't harm anyone."

He didn't even pause to consider her terms. "I will do whatever I deem necessary."

It was worth a try. There was little one person could do when a beast is on the rampage. She resigned the weapon to him, almost expecting it to be turned on her and fired without warning. Clutching the weapon, he marched past her towards one of the many doorways of the cargo bay. She had to jog to keep up with him, and as they moved briskly, she saw him switch the phaser from kill to stun.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6:

"Doctor McCoy, report to the bridge! Bones, where the hell are you?"

Kirk was getting sick and tired of repeating himself, especially above the noises that filled the ship. Reports were flooding in from all decks, describing problems as minor as malfunctioning replicators making steak jam, to more serious occurrences of doors closing on crewmembers. He was hovering over the communications console on the bridge where Uhura was frantically taking in phantom hails, all the while trying to send her own.

"Have _any_ transmissions been sent?" he asked shortly.

"I don't _know_, captain," she snapped back. "I have no way of knowing what's being transmitted or received…"

"Someone's sabotaging my ship, lieutenant! We need contact with Star Command!"

"Don't you think I'm trying?" her black hair whipped around as she flashed a look over her shoulder at him. It was then that Kirk saw the anxiety on her face.

"Sorry…" he said. "Carry on."

"Yes, sir," she replied with a deep breath, immediately tuning him out as she worked.

"_Captain, report from the cargo bay!_" a panicked voice came over the intercom. "_Dr. McCoy's been found unconscious, sir! And one of the cryo-tubes is empty!_"

He felt suddenly cold and sick.

"I want a unit of security at the cargo bay! I'm on my way! Spock, take the conn!"

The final command was given on his way off the bridge without bothering for a reply from the Vulcan. It was a long, winding run through the ship with the turbolifts failing to work properly. It wasn't until he was sliding down the fourth gangway ladder, a little short of breath, that it occurred to him he should have listened to Bones about that diet plan. Along the way, he met up with a handful of the security men who handed him a phaser.

When they reached the cargo deck, there was a nurse crouched over the sprawled figure of McCoy on the floor between the rows of cryo-tubes. One of which was dismantled and obviously empty. Kirk dropped to a knee beside him, gripping his shoulder a little harder than was probably necessary.

"Bones!"

The doctor groaned, a frown appearing that indicated he was coming around. The nurse, meanwhile, continually hovered a tricorder over his head. The right side of his face, from cheekbone to mouth, was already bruising and there was a trickle of blood on his chin.

"Bones, you alright?"

With the help of both the nurse and Kirk, McCoy slowly sat up, a hand cradling his head. "I feel like someone threw a moon at me… But at least all my teeth are still there…"

Relief washed over Kirk to see and hear his friend responsive. It made it easier to move on to the more immediate issue. "One of them got out. What happened?"

The reminder had the doctor suddenly grip him by the arm. "It's that bastard Khan!"

"Are you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure, I'm the one who woke him up! Jim, he's got a confederate. She pointed a phaser at me to make me do it. I don't know who she is, but Khan sure as hell seemed to. I thought he was going to kill her, so I stepped in and… well, ended up on the floor. She's not lying around here too, then?"

"I didn't see any woman… _You_ woke him up?"

"If I didn't she would have found someone else to…" the doctor mumbled as he gingerly poked his bruised cheek. "Don't look at me that way, Jim, I wasn't going to wake that son of a bitch without some insurance. The stimulant I injected to wake him up was laced with enough tryxolene to knock out three Gorns. All it took was a little slight of hand."

"You drugged him?" Kirk wanted to laugh and hug the country doctor. But he remembered just how hard it was to take down the likes of Khan. The man had a skull like bowling ball, and Kirk nearly broke his hand once trying to crack it. "How do you know it's enough?"

"To be honest, I don't… But from I recall in studying that superblood of his, it should slow him down quite a bit. Help me off the floor, will ya?"

Kirk did just that. Once they were both on their feet, he glanced to the redshirts that swept the place.

"Are the other tubes intact?" he called out.

"Yes, sir!" shouted one of the security officers. "And there's a few crewmen unconscious around here… Three so far."

"Take care of them, doctor." With quick strides, Kirk was at the nearest console where he connected himself to the bridge. "Mr. Spock!"

"_Yes, captain_."

"Khan's awake. Put us on red alert and keep working on those computers. He has an accomplice in the crew— a woman. I'll be leading security to hunt them down. Keep me posted on any progress or further issues."

"_Yes, captain._"

He switched to the ship-wide intercom. "Attention crew of the _Enterprise,_ this is the captain_. _The criminal John Harrison, also known as Khan, has been awoken and is now loose on the ship. I'm issuing Security Protocol 13. I want everyone armed and to shoot to kill. Kirk out."

The ship's decks flooded with red, the alert sounding through every deck and room. The fact that Khan was now free on his ship with an unknown ally was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he was confined within the space of the starship and therefore had less places to hide. On the other, it was something akin to being trapped in a cage with the shark on the inside with you.

"Lieutenant!" he flagged the security officer nearer, who stood at attention in front of him. "Assemble your men. If we're going to hunt this guy down, we need to be as organized as possible. Hop to it."

"Yes, sir."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7:

She was amazed at how quickly he had his bearings. He had been sleeping for a year and was moving through corridors of the starship that she was sure even the chief engineer didn't know about. The way was lined by red lights of the alert, the security concerns announced intermittently over the intercom along with more malfunctioning errors. It let her know that her hacking into the systems hasn't yet been resolved.

Marla followed his every step, and though he never turned to regard her or shoo her away, he occasionally offered the slightest gesture of a silent command. Khan obviously knew where he was going and why without needing to pass it by her first and it didn't occur to her to question it. It was a part of her nature that she quickly discovered upon meeting him for the first time—that he could lead her and she would follow without ever asking where they were going. Or maybe it was _his_ nature that everyone else felt compelled to follow.

In one of the narrower hallways he suddenly stopped and took a sharp turn. He tucked the phaser into the back of his trousers and disappeared into an alcove. She could hear his boots clanging on the steps of a gangway ladder. So, up she went too. When she came to the top, they were on the next deck. He had the phaser in hand again and paused. His line of sight traced the lines of the curved walls as if he could see right through them. Those probing eyes then glanced to her, a curt movement of his head indicating that they move again. And again she followed.

They went briskly for a few feet along the eerily empty hall. Suddenly, something happened that she had never seen.

_He stumbled._ His shoulder hit the wall hard and he braced a hand against it as if a gust of wind had suddenly blown him over.

"What's wrong?" she asked from afar, not daring to venture too close, in spite of her instinct to do so.

"It's nothing." Now that he finally spoke, she could hear how out of breath he was. His voice had even lost a bit of its crisp edge. "This way…" he said under his breath. Pushing from the wall, he was off again.

But as he moved his gait was uneven, his path taking him in more of a zigzag than a line. He was drifting nearer to the wall where a pale hand occasionally reached out to touch it. She couldn't stay back any longer and stole to his side.

"Something's wrong with you," she said firmly to hide her concern and took his arm. "We need to stop before you collapse."

"Not yet," he snapped. Wrenching his arm free he looked ahead down the corridor, his eyelids heavy.

From his profile, she could see how wan he was, the dampness of his brow, and labored breathing. Khan, the superior human, was fatigued and uncoordinated. As much as she told herself that she hated him, she was suddenly scared for him. He practically hugged the wall and continued on, his eyes continuously squinting, then widening, blinking, and staring. The less he seemed able to focus, the slower his steps became.

Meanwhile, she looked left and right to keep a weather eye open for redshirts. "Tell me where we're going and I can help."

He didn't react this time when she took hold of his arm, because it was the only thing keeping him from buckling over.

"We need to locate the number three relay junction on this deck…" he explained rapidly, his articulation heavy. "It connects directly to their communication controls."

"We just passed number four, it can't be much farther."

She pulled his arm and the muscle felt unusually soft. There were a few tremors in the tissue and an overall weakness. He was becoming heavier and heavier in her grip, and through the thin fabric of his shirt, he felt strangely cold. Something was definitely wrong and she tried desperately not to care.

"Here!" She turned him towards the ladder that led into the Number 3 tube. "Can you climb it?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he eased out of her grip and began to pull himself up the steps of the diagonal ladder. Rising up in the wall was the cylindrical incline of the tunnel, a small ladder the only means of hoisting a body inside to get to the bundle of critical circuits and components. His muscles quaked under the strain, his breath hissing out almost angrily at the unaccustomed effort. But, he made it into the small space, perching himself on the metal steps.

It was difficult to see what he was doing from where she stood at the opening, but she could hear his fingers tapping down on the key pad to access the panel. There was a beep and it swung open in front of him. Regardless of his fatigue, he worked meticulously. Finally, the console gave a cheerful beep and a series of ominous warning buzzes sounded throughout the ship.

* * *

Uhura's console suddenly lit up red on its various screens. All of the buzzing and static that had poured out of the receiver in her ear suddenly dropped into a steady, almost inaudible hiss.

"Communications are completely dead, commander!" she shouted, her hands never stopping in punching in overrides. "Ship intercoms, too!"

Spock, who had been working as tirelessly as the other officers at his science station, appeared beside her. He too attempted the same overrides.

"It's no use, it's been cut off." She was a little embarrassed by how her voice shook, and Spock all the while was the calmest soul in the middle of a growing crisis.

"Taking into account the consistently false error messages we have been receiving, the computer cannot be trusted at face value. Continue sending out emergency broadcasts, lieutenant."

His use of formalities did nothing to ease her growing fear. The less the ship cooperated, the more useless she felt. But she didn't hesitate or stop, no matter how much she wanted some humanistic reassurance from Spock. So long as he stood beside her, she hoped for at least a look—since a Vulcan could say a lot with just his eyes—but the computers had his undivided attention. And rightly so, she knew. Spock moved away without a glance to her.

"Reports from all stations," he addressed the bridge crew collectively.

"Still getting collision and proximity alerts, sir," Sulu said with agitation.

"Computer reports all veapons emptied from their docks, commander," said Chekov. "But the veapons bay personnel report all torpedoes still in their tubes and phasers still fully charged."

"Ship's power supposedly fluctuating from overload to ten percent, and nowhere in between…"

"Hull breach in the sick bay… all rec rooms reported to have imploded…"

"Deck four keeps trying to shut down for quarantine…"

Uhura heard the reports from every corner of the bridge as they were given to Spock, all of them proven faulty or completely wrong. The more she tried to get communications working, however, the more convinced she was that her malfunction was genuine. Someone cut it off entirely.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8:

Handfuls of security were dispatched throughout the ship and Captain Kirk himself led one of the units. It seemed like wishful thinking that Khan would have face planted somewhere in the ship thanks to the tryxolene that McCoy had given him. After all, Kirk was paranoid enough when Khan actually was sleeping in cryostasis.

He was marching down one of the hallways, phaser in hand and a wall of redshirts at his back, when the communicator chirped at his belt.

"_All communications within the ship have been disabled, captain,"_ it was Uhura.

Kirk stopped and silently motioned for the security men to continue on. "You mean it's an actual malfunction this time?"

"_Affirmative_," Spock's voice interjected. "_It's been manually disconnected from one of the maintenance shafts within the ship._"

"Can you tell which one?"

"_Not specifically. Mr. Scott is identifying all of the service tubes that connect with communications. With the unreliability of the computer and the intricate system of maintenance tunnels, locating which one is the source will take some time._"

"We don't have time, Spock! Khan knows starships better than any engineer I've ever seen. He's already cut us down to talking through communicators, which means this is only the first step of a takeover. Keep trying to fix the computers and as soon as you have a location on which conduit he sabotaged, let me know."

"_Yes, captain._"

Kirk switched to the open channel on the communicator. "Attention all security personnel. Divert search to all maintenance shafts, gangways, crawlways, and every other service tunnel on this ship. He's hiding in the walls and if we can't get him in there, we'll flush him out of them. Kirk out."

* * *

After disabling the internal communications of the ship, Khan was on the move again. But the walls were swaying around him, looking more liquid than metal. The last time he was revived there had been no such ill effects. Of course, the last time he wasn't thrown directly into a survival situation, either.

There was only one person to thank for his revival, and it was the same woman who had left his heart bruised and angry, who had exploited what fragment of love he had in him. She denied her betrayal, but he didn't dare believe her. He had to remind himself that he was above giving in to wishful thinking. So long as he could get any use out of her, no matter what secret motives she may have behind helping him, he would take it—and never trust her. No matter the vague pain it caused him to look at her, or the overwhelming feeling of _need_ whenever she would take his arm to help steady his ungraceful steps in their trek through the nervous system of the _Enterprise._

They descended two more levels, drawing nearer to the bowels of the ship where the engines droned stronger around them. There was one relay tunnel in particular that he sought which would paralyze Kirk's command of the ship. It was another diagonal shaft that Khan reclined in, his back pressed hard on the metal steps as he reached for the panel. While he worked, Marla lingered at the opening, just as before. Her red hair looked like a dancing flame in his peripheral the way that her head moved to and fro on the lookout. Or waiting for her comrades, for all he knew.

His task was taking twice as long as it should have. His vision occasionally blurred to the point of blindness, the coordination of his usually dexterous hands marred by quaking tendons. He was near the completion of his task, but his unreliable hands continued to hit the wrong buttons, starting the coding all over again. He was secretly glad that she couldn't see his clumsiness. It was enough that she was already aware of his weakness.

Marla suddenly gasped from the mouth of the tube. "They're coming!" she whispered up to him.

The added pressure only increased his precision, and within a few button strokes, the code was put in successfully. As he descended down one step of the ladder his leg gave out from under him. He had to dig his fingers into the metal to keep himself from dropping out of the tube and into a heap on the floor. Boots on metal suddenly echoed through the small curved walls of the tube and he was crowded by another body. Marla had climbed the steps so quickly that in his reduced state he had no time to react.

Her feet were balanced on the steps between his, her arms reaching to hit a different cluster of controls over his head. She laid her body along his in the diagonal angle of the tube, their bodies aligned in a proximity he had not felt in what seemed ages. Since he had last been with her over a year ago.

She almost didn't seem to notice he was there the way she focused and worked so quickly to access the controls. He could hear a door wheezing open from somewhere down the corridor below as the enemy approached, just before she hit the last button and the opening to the service tube hissed closed and locked to hide them away.

Her head turned to look down towards the sealed entrance, red strands tickling his face. He could feel her holding her breath. Her fear of capture seemed genuine. But he once thought the same of her affection for him. In that stagnant moment, he realized one of her hands had latched itself under his arm and was the only thing holding his failing body in place.

"We can hide in the tunnel junction," he whispered, his lips already near enough to her ear that he needed no volume. "I've just disabled the helm of the ship… It is only a matter of time before they find out where from…"

She finally began to breathe again, though shallowly, and he could feel it waft on his throat as she looked to him worriedly. "But you can hardly move."

Her eyes were astonishingly clear in the dimness of the tube. He forced himself to look upward, under the pretense of gauging their position. "It is only a few steps. I can make it… With your help."

He could feel her staring at him and he knew she was just as surprised as he was that he could ask for help so easily. It was less of a choice than he preferred and without a word, she helped him climb the short distance up the metal steps.

The tube junction was dark, lit only by the small service lights that lined the corners where each wall met. The length of it was longer than it was tall, where only a small child could stand properly without bending their spine. Each wall was lined with a row of control tubes, each leading to a specific deck and containing specific functions. The tube they emerged from had them crawling out of the wall on the level of the floor.

She climbed out first with agility before taking his arm and hoisting him out of the shaft. But he only let her pull him as far as a recline on the cold floor before he jerked himself free from her grasp. Scooting away from her, he pushed himself into the nearest corner where his shoulders melted into the intricate and uneven surface of the wall. With the phaser gripped tightly, he practically curled into himself like a wounded animal.

The further he was from her, the better. His bitterness wasn't yet prepared to give in to his desire, and the numbness that threatened to swallow him whole made the need stronger. He wasn't even aware of his eyes closing until they opened at the sensation of something soft pressing to his forehead.

"You're freezing…" Marla's tone was flat, masking any concern in her simple observation. But her face told a different story the way her brows were knitted together and her eyes wide. "Something must have gone wrong in the sequencing…"

Her fingers combed the damp strands of black from his brow to clear the clammy flesh, and it made his eyes fall closed again. He had almost forgotten what it was to be touched.

"There was nothing wrong with the sequencing…" he finally spoke quietly. "Though, perhaps you should have watched Doctor McCoy a little more carefully…"

"How could he have done anything? I was watching his every move."

Khan blinked hard, his eyes lifting to the low ceiling behind her. It was blurred, waving, and seemed both near and far. "I've been drugged…" he hissed slowly. "…my body is combatting the effects…."

"What can I do?"

She volunteered without any hesitation and it almost surprised him.

"It will pass.… Just make certain we're not discovered."

"I think we'll be fine for a while. They're sure to be scrambling after what you just did."

She sounded distant, but he thought he heard a smile in her tone. Or maybe it was his own fancy fabricating it. He was vulnerable and she could easily kill or betray him, but in that small confined space of the tube junction, he didn't feel alone. With the thrum of the ship vibrating through the wall at his back, he was coaxed into a half-sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9:

"_Captain, the helm is inoperative!_"

Sulu's voice had reached a higher pitch through the communicator, but it was the words that made Kirk's heart drop a little lower towards his stomach.

"_Cuttin' in, cap'n,_" Scotty joined in with equal panic, "_if we cannae control the ship, we have no choice but to shut down the engines. It won't stop us from movin' in whatever direction it is we're goin', but it'll at least ease up our ramming speed should we approach anything else floatin' in space._"

Kirk silently took in a few deep breaths as he listened to the frantic voices in the communicator. Once again, he let the security officers continue in their sweep of the ship without him. Khan was slowly tearing them apart from the inside. He hadn't seen him or heard him, but he knew the son of a bitch was around there somewhere. What was worse, he wasn't alone this time.

"Alright, Scotty, do it. And have you pinpointed any of the maintenance shafts connected to either communications or the helm?"

"_Searching as fast as I can, cap'n._"

"We just lost our helm, as fast as you can isn't enough!"

"_Jim, have you ever seen the schematics of a starship before? Everythin' is mapped out beautifully, except for the bloody maintenance shafts! Finding out which of the millions of circuits is connected to which of the hundreds of functions on this ship is like tryin' to—"_

"Scotty, I swear to God, if you use a metaphor to make your point…"

"_Well, it's not easy!" _the Scotsman snapped back defensively.

"You always say you know this ship better than anyone, just give me a way to track him!" He switched the channel to the security team. "Lieutenant Garrovick, continue to lead the search. I'll be on the bridge."

Snapping the communicator shut, he now had free hands for climbing gangway after gangway to the bridge. Man, did he take those turbolifts for granted. When he finally stepped onto the bridge, the climb had built up an embarrassing amount of sweat on his forehead. A quick swipe of his striped sleeve took care of it as he took in the various reports of no progress and continued errors. Sulu seemed ready to have a conniption fit at his dead helm, and it took everything Kirk had not to empathize too much. He had more to worry at the moment.

It wasn't long after his arrival on the bridge that the engines shut down, their constant hum suddenly dying out and leaving the ship in a hushed stillness in which Kirk could feel the collective dread of his crew. They were now more or less dead in the water.

"Ship operations have reported minor progress in restoring the computer systems," Spock's voice came from behind him.

Kirk had to blink a few times to realize he had been staring at the viewscreen. "What? Oh, good. What kind of progress?"

"We now know that the saboteur has disabled the standard repair protocols."

"…and?"

"And that they will not work, therefore _other_ methods are presently being pursued."

Kirk stared at him, waiting either for more information or a punch line. But neither came. "God, you're serious. That's your idea of progress."

Spock lifted a brow of genuine confusion. "It is more knowledge than we previously had on the matter, captain, and I did say only twenty two seconds ago that it was _minor _progress…"

Spock's sass was beginning to show, which reminded Kirk that his cool first officer wasn't as unaffected by the situation as he pretended to be.

"Never mind…" Kirk sighed. "We need to figure out our next step. Or rather Khan's next step. He's meticulous and he knows the effect to every cause. I'm just not sure what his endgame is."

"By his obvious intent to take control of the ship away from you and the crew, he intends to take control for himself," Spock offered.

"But then what? He won't find this a cooperative crew and he sure as hell can't fly this ship with just himself and whoever that woman is. If there's anything we have that he doesn't, it's numbers…" The chirping of the communicator on his belt interrupted all train of thought. "Kirk here."

"_It's McCoy,_" the Southern drawl would have been hard to mistake. "_With all the casualties trickling in and out o' here, I managed to ID that girl who pointed the phaser at m'face by manually looking through the ship manifest._"

"Who is she?"`

"_One Ensign Madlyn Rhue._"

"Madlyn Rhue…" Kirk repeated the name slowly. "Why do I know that name?"

"_I tried to transmit the file to you, but I'm pretty sure the computer sent it to Andoria instead. I sent Dr. Marcus to you with the information, she oughtta be there at any moment…_"

"Great job, Bones."

"_There's one more thing, Jim. Dr. Marcus might have an interesting factoid or two to give you about our turncoat._"

At that moment, a familiar blonde came breathlessly onto the bridge, her cheeks alight from the long climb through the decks.

"She's here now," Kirk spoke into the communicator. "Thanks again, Bones…"

Carol moved briskly across the busy bridge, meeting both Kirk and Spock around the command chair. "I've brought the file, captain." She held out a disc towards him. "Dr. McCoy said it's her without a doubt…"

He took the disc and immediately put it into the console on the arm of the captain's chair. With the push of a button, the information on the disc was projected on the viewscreen. The woman's credentials, history, and official records spread across the large display, her picture in the center of it. It was the red hair more than her face that snapped Kirk's memory to the cargo bay just before launch.

"I do know her, she was just transferred on." He couldn't help sounding angry about it. He _knew_ he sensed something off about her!

"Captain," Carol stole closer to his side, her eyes moving from the viewscreen to him. "I know this woman. That is, I knew her a little over a year ago. But that wasn't her name. And for as long as I knew her she was involved with Khan."

"You mean she has a history with him?" There was only one kind of history on Kirk's mind, and Carol seemed to read it loud and clear.

"She was in love with him," she confirmed, but her tone seemed to have a touch of pity to it. "It was during the time that my father was overseeing the secret developments of new weapons. I was following these innovations, they were fascinating to me. I found out that they were primarily designed by John Harrison, who was stationed for some time at Starbase 12. So I forged a transfer there—"

"Do you ever go where you're supposed to?" Kirk suppressed a smirk.

She smiled briefly but ignored the interruption. "I forged a transfer there so that I could meet the genius behind the designs. He was off starbase at the time, and so I approached Marla instead."

"Her name is Marla then?"

"Yes. Lieutenant Marla McGivers. She's a historian, and I saw her name more than once attached to Harrison's on the records. They didn't specify how she was involved, though. It wasn't until later that I learned she was recruited in the revival of the augments when their ship was found adrift. She has a specialized knowledge of the twentieth century that made her invaluable at the time…"

"So…" Kirk felt strange forming this question. "How close _was_ she with Khan?"

Carol cleared her throat and tucked a few loose strands behind her ear. "Well, I… I didn't exactly pry even though I became good friends with her in the short time I was there. It wasn't until he returned to Starbase 12 that I actually met him, and only that once. I didn't see her much after that, I only knew she was spending most of her free time with him. When I did see her, she was completely mad about him. She didn't talk about him much, but she had that look in her eye."

"A look, Dr. Marcus…" Spock interjected flatly, "is hardly a solid premise in which to conclude the interpersonal relationship of two individuals."

Kirk let out a short burst of laughter. "You wish, Spock."

"I do not—"

"Don't think no one sees you and Nyota making eyes," he said under his breath, looking at the Vulcan knowingly.

Spock's spine straightened with insult. "I think humans have a tendency to perceive things that are not—"

"Forget it," Kirk waved a tired hand. "Whatever you think, Spock, there are some things humans have an intuition for. If Carol recognized a look on another woman's face, I'll take her word for it. But that only begs the question. Did…" Again, Kirk found himself uncomfortable on the subject and cast a nervous glance to Spock before looking to Carol again. "Did… Khan love her back?"

Carol could only give a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know… I find it hard to believe that a man like that could love anything…"

"Then what happened to Marilyn after that?"

"Marla," Spock corrected.

"Right, Marla. What happened to her?"

"Well…" Carol began thoughtfully, her eyes averting as she dug into her memory. "One day she came to me to say goodbye. She told me she was transferring, but she wouldn't tell me where or why. There was more to it— I knew by the way she was acting. Suddenly, security officers came in and arrested her for conspiracy. I never saw her again after that. You can only imagine how furious and confused I was, so I went directly to my father. He only told me that Marla was in league with one of his agents who had gone rogue. He had one of his top officers watching her every move, because Harrison knew how to evade their surveillance. That was at the same time that all the official records were wiped clean of the prototype torpedoes, John Harrison, and even Marla McGivers. I couldn't find her and I still don't know what became of her."

"You know now," Kirk added sharply. "I'm sorry if you were friends with her, Carol, but we have to arrest her if we have the opportunity."

Though Carol's eyes were misted with tears, she gave a firm nod. "I understand, captain. I just… I don't understand what she sees in him… How she could let him loose on the ship. We don't even know where he is, do we?"

It wasn't until the fear shook itself to the surface of Carol's countenance that Kirk felt the guilt. She was currently plunged into the middle of her worst nightmare—stranded on a ship with Khan lurking around in it—thanks to Kirk's selfish insistence that she stick around. She was trying to be strong, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her in tight and reassure her. But there were protocols to be observed while they were on the bridge, and he was all too aware of Spock looming behind him.

"It'll be all right, Carol…" he said quietly. A firm hand on her shoulder had to suffice, but it felt pathetically meek in the comfort department. "With everything you've told me about his accomplice Madison—"

"Marla," both Spock and Carol corrected in unison this time.

"_Marla_—we'll have a better chance against them both. If it can be helped, no harm will come to her."

"Is there anything I can do?" Carol never looked away from him. "Please, I need to do something."

"Captain," Spock stepped forward. "Perhaps Dr. Marcus could assist engineer Scott in repairing the terminals. Her proficiency in forging official documents suggests that she has sufficient knowledge of the systems to do so."

The look of impending panic on her face told him that she intended to be helpful on the bridge where it seemed safe. After all, it was more than likely that Khan was slithering around somewhere in the lower decks.

"Actually," Kirk propped his fists on his hips and glanced around the bridge. "We have a few people working on the circuits from up here. I think Dr. Marcus could be a big help with that."

"Captain—"

Spock's protest was silenced by a sharp glare from the captain's blue eyes.

"She's staying up here, Spock."

The Vulcan didn't bother to reply and sauntered away. Spock was peeved, but it was all worth it to see some color return to Carol's face and she mouthed two silent words to Kirk. _Thank you._


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10:

Marla could feel the cold seeping into her as she leaned on the wall of the tube junction. Having no choice but to wait, she sat with her arms around her knees to retain as much warmth as possible on the unforgiving hardness of the floor that was never meant for idle sitting. They had been there for half an hour and the adrenaline in her system was beginning to fail her. Hunger was settling in, as well as anxiety. She expected to be found at any moment.

Khan remained huddled in the corner. He looked strangely small, almost like a boy with how benign his face was when at rest, looking pale and free of those lines of anger and cruel intent in the poor light of the junction. She remembered how harmless he could look and she knew how deceptive it could be.

The droning of the ship that had mesmerized her into some minor state of calm suddenly died away, making the small room feel suddenly exposed. The abrupt silence was profound enough for Khan's eyes to open. He didn't look surprised in the least.

"They shut off the engines…" she stated the obvious at a whisper, afraid that they could now be heard throughout the quiet ship. "Did you plan for that?"

"Protocols…" he said wearily. "No helm capability requires the shutdown of all engines, including impulse power…. They will be reduced to thrusters only…. Thus far, the captain has been uncharacteristically by the book…"

"You talk like you know him," she said dubiously.

"James T. Kirk…" he began, slowly stretching out his limbs with a wince, "…is creative, if not clever. He proved as much when I first laid eyes on him. He fashioned a makeshift weapon to take out the engine of my jumpship where a troupe of phaser rifles failed… Then, he ran shooting into a Klingon squadron that outnumbered him ten to one, jumped through space from one ship to another through a field of debris, and I have heard voluntarily climbed into a warp core to realign it. He thrives in the face of certain death and excels in chaos."

Marla stared in wonder as she listened. She had never heard him speak of anyone with what sounded to be any degree of respect. What he was admiring was what the Federation had gladly dubbed heroism in Captain Kirk.

"If he excels in chaos…" she asked coldly. "Then why do you insist on creating it?"

The question seemed to suddenly exhaust him the way his eyes closed beneath a frown. "If there is ever to be order, then it must come in the wake of chaos."

"Is that why you did it?" Anger was heating up inside of her, and she had forgotten to whisper. "All the terrible things you've done were for 'order'?"

"At one time, yes." His eyes opened again, looking strangely docile as they held a cerulean hue. "When Earth was fraught with wars three hundred years ago, it needed us to restore peace… But I've been awoken in a self-professed orderly world. You…" his voice softened a bit. "You knew better than even I did how irrelevant we would be in this time. But I still had the one purpose to cling to that inspired the launch of our ship into exile—to lead my people as I had led nations… though it would be into the darkness of space. I accepted that you would not want to follow, you belong with your _Starfleet._" He spoke the word as if it left a bad taste on his tongue.

At his talk of acceptance, her hand moved to the bruises on her neck that told a contradictory story. Though she didn't consciously make the gesture, his eyes flickered to her neck and dimmed briefly with what seemed like regret.

"Everything I have done was for my family. But when Commander Lassiter intercepted my escape—when I had to leave them all behind—Marcus made me believe that he had killed them all…" a shaken breath was taken, his gaze at last lifting from her abused throat to meet her eyes. "And that it was you who made it possible."

A pressure suddenly mounted within her, the need to burst out with the truth of why she never arrived in the hangar to meet him. That she was never a spy for anyone. She didn't even understand why Admiral Marcus used the lie. But her pride prevented her from explaining anything to a man who caused so much pain and devastation. Her conscience had to prevail over her idiotic heart.

"You asked me _why_." His voice dropped with resentment, his eyes narrowing and flashing a glint of green. "By Marcus making me believe my crew was dead and that you had used me as easily has he had, I was left with nothing. I was alone in a world I do not belong to. I had nothing to fight for… but revenge. So my new and only purpose was Marcus. I was determined to make him feel the same loss. He is a man of war and would feel no greater pain than the death of his officers. I knew they defined him more than even his own daughter, so I killed as many as I could and all at once. Marcus then had to follow me to the Klingon home world—initiating his dream war under the flag of retribution was too great a temptation—and I waited for him there.

"However, I did not anticipate that my crew would be alive. It changed everything. What began as a means to kill Marcus became a second chance for me to save my crew, and I would take no chances. I had no mercy left for Starfleet, and the lives of my crew came before all others. Had Marcus sent any ship but the _Enterprise_, I would have succeeded…" His face creased for a moment with scorn. "Marcus launched the _Vengeance, _the ship that I helped build. It was fortuitous that he himself was on board and when I finally had him…" His voice lowered into a distracted whisper, his eyes flashing with remembered satisfaction. "I watched his final moments of terror, agony, and regret for the day that he ever found my ship."

She didn't understand the feeling that coursed through her as she listened. The hatred in his eyes and the ease in which he spoke of it made her shudder. And yet… her heart broke for him. He was at the mercy of his own out of control emotions and she couldn't help wondering if his rage could have been quelled had he at least been spared the lie of her betrayal. She didn't dare to ask when another question surfaced tremulously.

"Were you going to come after me too?"

He slowly shook his head. "No… I had the same hate for you as I did Marcus… but it was only with you that I feared succeeding. I didn't want to find you."

"And now that I've found you..?" She couldn't help the nervous fingering of the bruises on her neck. She had never been so terrified of someone's hands, and yet so desperate to be touched by them again.

"I want an explanation." His voice was suddenly sharp. "For why you're helping me. You've made it clear that you despise what I've done and what I am, so I want to know why you are risking your life now to help me. You are clearly still comfortable in uniform…" His eyes dipped with disdain to the red uniform that clung to her.

It insulted her to be judged by her clothes. If he only knew the false name and persona she had put on to get onboard the _Enterprise._

"I'm not just helping you," she said sternly. "I'm helping everyone else. Ever since your ship was found, you've brought nothing but death and destruction. And nothing but pain has been brought to you and your people. There's always going to be someone in the Federation who will keep using you all as science experiments and tools and you'll continue to fight them until every last one of you is dead. I may not have had any control in your first revival, but I was still involved. You were once one of the fiercest leaders Earth had ever known, Khan… but you were also one of the greatest. No matter what I may think of you now, that won't change. So I intend to help you and your people escape once and for all. To get you out of the reach of the Federation and Starfleet. What you do after that is up to you, as long as you stay away."

The thoughts that had filled her mind for so long now flowed easily from her mouth as if she had rehearsed it. Even if she completely omitted what she went through to reach such a conclusion.

She waited for a reply of some kind. Something to tell her whether he was grateful or would spit in her face and reject the offer. But as he stared at her, she couldn't read his face. His brows were knitted, but not downward in a frown. It was only when his softened eyes squinted with scrutiny that he finally spoke with a tone of wonder.

"How you've changed…" The more he looked at her, the more a grimace appeared, his jaw clenching as the following words came out more quietly. "Though I suspect I never knew you to begin with.… I trust you now only as far as it suits me."

"Then it's mutual." She prided herself in her ability to speak firmly in spite of the distinct churning pain in her chest.

"And you find no need to justify yourself?" Now he was the one who sounded dubious. "To tell me what happened to you since I had last laid eyes on you in the hangar of Starbase 12? When you swore you would come with me—in your words—'no matter what'?"

He was mocking her. Making her into a liar. "I don't have anything to justify—"

One of the tubes suddenly beeped, its latch hissing open. Marla had barely glimpsed a red-uniformed hand with a phaser when Khan fired his own weapon into the narrow opening. The blast of the phaser gave her flash burn and she heard the shouts of crewmen echoing into their small junction.

Khan, who had been languid with weariness only seconds ago, now rolled from his corner with frightening agility. He fired another shot, but this time it hit the control pad beside the entrance of the tube. It beeped angrily and slid shut, the circuits smoking. Long limbs carried him like a spider to another tube, and when he was satisfied that there were no red shirts waiting for him on the other side, he took her hand and led her silently through it.

She wondered briefly if the security men that Khan fired at would recover all right, but her fingers curled around the strong hand that pulled her into the maze of service tunnels that ran throughout the _Enterprise_.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11:

Kirk was beginning to pace like a lunatic in a padded cell. This wasn't how the captain of a starship should feel on his own bridge. But he moved impatiently from station to station, checking in and waiting for some sort of good news. It all seemed to be more of the same when he heard something that made him stop instantly.

The blaring error noises stopped.

More than one screen on the bridge faded from red back to the cool colors of blue. Then, Carol's voice trilled from the engineering station.

"Systems back online, captain!"

She smiled beautifully at him from across the bridge, and he broke into a sprint to join her. He looked with cautious relief to the screens.

"All of them?"

"The ship's main computer is functional again," she explained. "But since the helm and communication relays have been manually disabled, they will have to be restored manually as well."

"But now that the computers are working again, it'll be easier to do it," Kirk concluded with a sigh of relief, his hands falling to her slender shoulders. "Carol, you're amazing!" Without a second thought, he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Captain!" She reprimanded him with a blush, but didn't try to pull away.

He wasn't ashamed though; he honest to God wanted to kiss the blonde physicist into a coma. But the sound of deliberate throat clearing behind him snapped him out of all giddiness. Releasing Carol, he turned to find Spock staring at him.

"Is there something you want, Spock?"

"I intended to update you on Mr. Scott's progress in locating the service tunnels that have been tampered with, but now I find there may be unwanted consequences to giving you a positive report."

"Very funny," Kirk said flatly. "What positive report?"

"I was being truthful, captain, not humorous." Spock seemed compelled to clarify before returning to the business at hand. "Mr. Scott has identified all of the communication and helm control relays throughout the ship. We surmised that Khan would have gone to the first available conduits from the cargo bay…" Here, he leaned over the console and with the push of a button, brought the schematics of the _Enterprise_ onto the viewscreen. "Helm relays are indicated in green, communications in red."

Kirk moved to the floor space in front of the viewscreen to look over the diagrams, the relays all highlighted thanks to Scotty. There was indeed a communication relay nearby the cargo bay.

"That has to be where he went first then… The nearest helm relay for him would be three decks up." Blues trailed over the service tunnels that seemed to make up the skeleton of the ship. They were dotted in random and scattered places by the green and red highlights. "What's your next step, you bastard…" he said under his breath.

"Khan is a master tactician," Spock joined in as he stood close beside him. "You said yourself our greatest benefit is that we outnumber him. He will want to remedy that disadvantage."

A connection was immediately made in Kirk's brain and his lips parted with the sinking feeling that followed. "He's going to engineering. He may be able to do a lot of things from the service tunnels, but engineering is the only place where he can get control of the life support systems. He could wipe out most—if not all—of the crew."

"It is a variation of a tactic he threatened to employ before…" Spock murmured.

Suddenly, his eyebrow quirked. Where he failed in any expression, that eyebrow spoke volumes and Kirk felt a strange moment of telepathy in knowing exactly what it meant at this very moment. Spock was inspired.

"There is one trait in Khan that he has proven consistently, even in the alternate timeline, according to Mr. Spock."

Kirk blinked and shook his head. "Hang on—what? You mean your other you… er, you told yourself about the other timeline? I thought that was a bad thing!"

Spock stared back at him as if he was speaking another language. "During the time that you and Khan were boarding the _USS Vengeance,_ I consulted my alternate self for more information. Mr. Spock was cautious about omitting crucial information that could alter this timeline. He only divulged certain behavioral patterns of our adversary that could be used to our advantage and which were ultimately used to defeat him in the other universe."

"You were multitasking while I was in a boarding party with probably the most dangerous man in the universe?" Kirk said slowly. "Thanks Spock… Thanks for that. I think I'll make personal calls the next time you're on a life-endangering away mission."

"If you recall, I was opposed to your decision to work with Khan precisely _because_ he was so dangerous. I simply wanted to learn more about him when I had the opportunity. Had I not, I would not have learned that Khan is particularly susceptible to implied facts without proof and I would not have been able to fool him when we beamed him his torpedoes without his crew."

"You mean he's gullible?" Kirk said cynically. The man was a genetically engineered genius, that didn't seem like a flaw worth exploiting. But the more he thought about it, the more the pieces began to fall into place. "He _thought_ Marcus killed his crew and he went nuts. I convinced him to help me board the _Vengeance _and it ended up really easy to get the drop on him and stun him. And then he went nuts again…Then he thought you sent him his crew, and you blew him up. Then he went nuts again and destroyed half of San Francisco." He had to scoff at the revelation. "I'll be damned, he's gullible! Though I'm not so sure I like what happens after he's fooled, Spock…"

"_Security to the bridge!_" Lt. Garrovick's voice came through."_Khan's been spotted in relay junction C-2 on Deck 12!_"

Kirk immediately looked to the schematics on the viewscreen and fixed on the exact location. Khan hadn't gotten very far at all.

"Did you see which direction he went?"

"_Negative, sir. He opened fire and escaped. We don't know if he went up or down a level._"

"Seal off the junctions between Decks 11 and 13. Try to enclose him in a smaller search area. The ship's computers are functional now, use bioscanners to find him."

"_We already tried, sir. The computers are functional, but the bioscanners need to be recalibrated and can't seem to lock onto anything in the meantime._"

"Great…" Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just keep trying to corner him the old fashioned way then while the scanners are being fixed."

"_Yes, sir!_"

"Captain," the sharpness of Spock's voice gave Kirk pause. "Are you certain of Security Protocol 13?"

Kirk had to blink hard at him. "That was issued hours ago, Spock. And why wouldn't I?"

"If you recall, Admiral Marcus also once ordered Khan to be killed on sight…"

"Yeah," Kirk scoffed with insult to have been compared to the likes of Marcus. "Because he blew up an archive that killed forty people. He's done the same ten times over since then and he's loose on my ship. I'm not taking any chances." He leaned in discreetly. "I thought you would back me on this one."

"I am not refuting the fact that Khan is a danger to everyone on this ship, or the Federation as a whole," Spock also hushed his tone. "But you have specific orders to have him and all seventy-two of his people transferred to Regula I. It is your duty to fulfill that mission, and logically—"

"Fulfill that mission _within_ _reason_," Kirk interjected. "The logic is loud and clear to me here, Spock, and it's telling me that when something goes wrong, you deal with it. To hell with orders. Besides you have just as much reason to want that bastard dead as I do."

"He is largely outnumbered and confined into smaller compartments of the ship. The statistical likelihood of his capture is increasingly in our favor, therefore the necessity to kill a prisoner who has already been tried and sentenced to suspended animation—not death—denotes Security Protocol 13 an extreme measure."

Kirk still stared at him. It was as though Spock had wiped his brain of all the hell that Khan had put them through a year ago. Taking a deep breath, he kept his bubbling anger in check. "Okay… I get that you try to be logical, that you Vulcans are all about preserving life and opposing violence… But you can't stand here and tell me that you would put this crew at the mercy of an insane superman just because you think we should follow orders. Bones told me that you chased Khan down through downtown San Francisco. He's responsible for the deaths of thousands of people, including Pike. You were going to kill him because of everything he did…" He wasn't about to assume it was just for him. "...and we both know logic had nothing to do with it."

Spock's face betrayed no emotions, his mouth a straight line and his usually indicative eyebrows unmoving. The more stoic he was, the more feelings Kirk suspected were being swallowed down.

"I know emotions embarrass you," Kirk added more empathetically this time. "But I'm trying to make a point…"

"As am I," Spock's voice was cold. "It is precisely due to the fallacies of emotions that I am compelled to remind you of our duty. Had I killed Khan that day, his blood could not have been used to resuscitate you; the consequence of ungoverned emotions. For the same flaw, Admiral Marcus nearly succeeded in sending you as Khan's assassin to unwittingly initiate a war. Do what you must, captain, but you must attempt at some objectivity. Your vindictiveness may be directed at Khan, but it may bring harm to anyone else who happens to get in the way, such as Lieutenant McGivers."

Kirk found it more and more difficult to look at him. It wasn't the first time Spock had given him such a lecture, and Kirk hated the ring of truth in it. He hadn't even been considering the wellbeing of Marla in this, when she was in the line of fire just as much as Khan. But to show even the smallest sliver of leniency towards Khan—even for Marla's sake—broadened the potential for destruction so vastly that it quite frankly terrified Kirk. He couldn't risk his crew for one traitorous woman and it was on the tip of his tongue to spit Spock's words back at him regarding the _needs of the many._

"If we're going to argue using 'what if's and 'could have been's, I wouldn't have lost hundreds of people in my crew if I had shot him dead on the bridge of the _Vengeance_ when I had the chance. Instead I was sticking to _your_ logic of justice and rules. I'll do what I deem necessary, commander."

He hated himself for saying it, but he meant every syllable.

To let his first officer know that the conversation was over he walked away and took his place in the captain's chair.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12:

Marla never thought she would share the same experience as a rat in a maze. Of course, unlike a rat she had the advantage of a well-informed, genetically-engineered guide to take her through it. The grip of his hand around hers was firm—but never too tight—as she followed him along the turns and drops, moving from one junction to another through the endless conduits and tunnels. They were all identical, save for a few serial codes to identify them to the engineers who knew what they meant.

A small crawlway brought them to another tunnel junction, but this one was larger than the others. It was clearly one of the primary maintenance points in the ship because not only did it have a ceiling high enough for a human adult to stand upright, but each of its walls was made up of a computer terminal.

Khan finally let go of her hand to pull himself out of the crawlway, his body slowly sliding out as he stood up. He turned back to lean heavily on the opening of the shaft and reached inside for her. He was pale and looking especially uncoordinated, but he pulled her out of the shaft and placed her on her feet like a child. She told herself it was impatience on his part, not chivalry. Nevertheless, she cleared her throat and straightened her uniform with a blush.

"Do you know where we are?" she asked as she followed him to one of the computers.

"Deck 12, junction A-1." The phaser was suddenly put into her hand. "Shoot anyone who enters. They're closing in on us… It's only a matter of time before we're cornered and captured…"

She clutched the weapon tight, swallowing down the paranoia that Khan had unwittingly exacerbated within her. "What do we do now, then?"

"Balance the terms."

He stooped over the controls, his hands looking strangely heavy as they punched buttons. His breathing was more labored than even hers, his eyes looking ready to close at any moment. The drug that McCoy dosed him with was still working strong, in spite of the bursts of adrenaline that seemed to keep Khan moving. It couldn't keep up for long, she knew. Either the drug would give out, or Khan would.

"_Ship intercoms back online._" The ship's cool, feminine voice emanated from the computer.

Marla's eyes widened at the screen. "What are you doing?"

A wearisome, if not diabolical, smirk appeared as he simply glanced to her. Then, he turned his shoulder towards the screen in an unmistakable prideful pose as he addressed the computer.

"Connect me to the bridge."

* * *

"Captain, we're approaching an unknown planet," Sulu announced.

Sulu's report had Kirk's spine straighten as he sat tiredly in his chair.

"Were we thrown off course?"

"I think so, keptin," Chekov added. "Nawigation is still inoperative vithout ze helm, but according to ze little data ve have for telemetry, ve should still be vithin the Gamma 400 Quadrant."

"We don't know how much or how little we deviated from our original heading," said Sulu. "We could be in any number of star systems within the quadrant…"

"We'll just have to figure out where we are later," Kirk murmured. "Can you put us into orbit with just the thrusters?"

"It'll be tricky not to get pulled into the planet's gravity, but doable, sir," Sulu said confidently.

"Put us into standard orbit then…"

While Sulu complied, Kirk's hand began to tap at the arm of his chair anxiously. Security had yet to report any luck in catching anyone in the tunnels of the ship, and they had been in pursuit for nearly an hour. Nearly half of security had been placed around the cargo bay to guard the cryo-tubes, and they had no reports of suspicious activity either.

"Sir…" Uhura's voice carried through the bridge. "Intercoms have just been reactivated. But all other communications are still disabled."

Kirk swiveled just enough to look to Uhura confusedly. "_Just _the intercoms?"

He had barely uttered the question when the viewscreen was suddenly filled with an unexpected image.

It was Khan.

The sharp angles of his face were contrasted between the dark shadows and the light of the screen in front of him. The hunt that had been going on through the _Enterprise _was evident in the mess of black hair that hung over his eyes. He looked paler than Kirk remembered, his eyes encircled with shadows, but retaining the ferocious green that gave him such a predatory quality.

This was the first time he had seen Khan's face out of cryostasis, and Kirk was momentarily stunned.

"Well, Kirk…" The baritone of Khan's voice shook the bridge, an amused look of familiarity appearing. "Kirk, my old friend. The phoenix who rose from the ashes…" His eyes flickered to Spock, the amusement quickly extinguished into cold regard. "And Mr. Spock."

Kirk finally pushed himself onto his feet. It felt rather futile, though, to try to stand tall when Khan appeared a giant on the viewscreen. "You're running out of places to hide, Khan. If you surrender now, I might spare your life and the life of your accomplice, Marla McGivers."

"Such threats don't suit you, captain, they're far too unconvincing," his voice was drenched in condescension. "I know, however, that you will comply when I tell you to call back your men from their search."

"And why would I do that?" Kirk could match his pretension.

"If you do not," Khan began simply, "I can—and will—eliminate your crew. Then I will be free to move about the ship to revive my own people and commandeer the _Enterprise._ Your crew will be spared if you surrender your ship."

"You're trapped in a shaft," Kirk spoke with more certainty than he actually had. "I'm not surrendering to a bluff."

"Oh, captain…" Khan's voice was husky, a hint of a smirk appearing. "Bluffing is an inferior's contingency. I have never made a threat that I was not prepared to deliver. Call back your men and surrender your command."

Kirk had almost forgotten the enormity of this man's ego. It made his own look small in comparison, and that really was no easy feat.

"If you're so damn superior," Kirk smirked defiantly at him, "then why don't you come out and meet me here on the bridge? Then you can fight me for it."

He could feel the surge of fear fill the bridge as he gave the cocky challenge, and in his peripheral the crew looked to him to question his sanity. But Kirk was noticing something that they may not have—Khan was swaying.

"I could even have my men escort you here if you prefer." Maybe Kirk was getting carried away, but the temptation to punch him one more time in the face before getting skull-crushed was irresistible.

Khan's mouth had begun to turn downward with insult, but his gaze was wavering. "You have an unfortunate habit of allowing your arrogance to kill others, Kirk…" He sounded short of breath.

His mouth opened, no doubt ready to deliver more sinister threats, when his lithe frame suddenly listed to the side. Kirk was sure he was going to drop out of the image's frame when a feminine hand suddenly appeared, bracing against Khan's chest and holding him upright. It was then that she appeared just enough within the frame to reveal a red uniform and red hair. There was a hushed exchange of words between her and Khan that were inaudible.

Kirk took a breath to address her—now that he knew she was there—to offer her a way out and a chance to change sides, but something made him hesitate. He didn't have the chance to speak when Khan seemed to have collected himself enough to return his penetrating gaze to Kirk.

"You have only moments to bid your crew goodnight, Kirk… You've clearly made your choice…"

The image faded back into a field of stars and the surface of an unknown planet.


End file.
